


Golden

by Lukaheim



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Barty will be the crackhead uncle, But oops, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Harriet Potter - Freeform, Mentor Voldemort, Minister for Magic Tom Riddle, Powerful Harry Potter, Rule 63, Snape will be the tired uncle by the end of this story., Well-Meaning Dumbledore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-03-03 08:00:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13336857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lukaheim/pseuds/Lukaheim
Summary: Laying a kiss over the scar, Voldemort disapparated leaving the girl in the ruins of her home. With blood covering his teeth, he knew that one day he would be back for Harriet Potter.





	1. Prologue

           Voldemort stares down at the crying babe in the crib, red eyes wide with disbelief. The loud wailing has no effect on him, and for the first time in a long time he’s _stunned._ This little thing, only capable of eating and crying, unable to live on its own, survived a _killing curse_. His instincts were long honed, so much so that when the green light of his Avada Kedavra came flying back at him, he deflected it into the crumbling wall of the nursery.

 

            This was unexpected, to say the very least. Now he knew what the power the dark lord knows not is. To some extent. Sighing, he picked up the girl, and she quieted down in his arms. The bleeding curse scar called to him, a mark that made her _his._ Voldemort smiled at her, for he could tell, no feel, that she was going to be an incredible witch of incredible power. Her core radiated with power, and underneath it, he could sense his own etched into her very being.

 

            _You my dear will one day be awe-inspiring._

            Laying a kiss over the scar, Voldemort disapparated and left the girl in the ruins of her home. With blood covering his teeth, he knew that one day he would be back for Harriet Potter.

           

            He takes over the ministry two years later after brutal fighting, in a dark horse landslide of a victory that neither Dumbledore nor his precious Order could have ever seen coming. It was all to easy to get the important chairs of the Wizenmagot to vote for him, after promises of a better future not just to the purebloods but to all witches and wizards.

            Grinning, Voldemort stands in front of the magical masses he now represents and brings forth a new golden age of magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, this is just the prologue, and I was curious how it would go down if Voldemort survived, because cmon, the man who knows the darkest of dark magic gets whammed by a baby? Also the tags give away where this is headed, Minister Tom is just too awesome not to write. 
> 
> Also if you haven't checked out Nocturnememory's Ichor series, then do so immediately. They are an incredible writer that inspired me to get back into writing. Get over there and give them some kudos!


	2. Three Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harriet is not like the Dursley’s. She’s told it time and time again. 
> 
> “You aren’t a Dursley, you're a Potter.” Her Aunt spat at her, lips curled like an angry cat.

     Harriet is not like the Dursley’s.

 

     Too unnatural. A freak.

 

     She’s told it time and time again.

 

     The first time she found out that she wasn’t really a Dursley is when Harriet was finally told her full name, Aunt Petunia sick of the way the girl stared at her so innocently with that _freakish scar of her’s, acting so sweet and caring-_

 

     “You aren’t a Dursley, you’re a _Potter._ ” Her Aunt spat at her, lips curled like an angry cat. “You’ll turn out just like your mother and father, _freaks_ the lot of them. A drunk your wretched father was, and your mother acting like she was better than me, than everyone in Cokeworth with that Snape boy-”

 

     Harriet doesn’t care that her Aunt is saying hateful things about the parents she knows nothin’ about, quietly drinking up the information her aunt is giving out like the sweet lemonade Mrs. Figg gives her. Sure, it wasn’t wrapped up in a pretty bow, but who cares? Harriet’s never been one to get pretty things, so this was no different.

 

     It was a gift whether her Aunt realized it or not.

* * *

 

 

     There were three things Harriet knows about her parents.

 

     Her mother’s name is Lily, after the lovely flower Harriet once saw painted in a book. She wonder’s if her mother was as elegant and pale as the petals are.

 

     Her father wore glasses, just like hers. Apparently, she gets the terrible eye sight from him, her aunt sneers. Harriet doesn’t mind that the glasses are ugly, that she’s called bug eyed. It’s one more thing that connects her to her father.

 

     Finally, she learns that her parents were killed in a car crash. It makes sense, for Harriet can remember a green light, and a woman screaming. But Harriet keeps hoping that one day they’ll come back.

 

     It’s ridiculous and foolish but it helps Harriet get through the chores and yelling and the nights where she goes hungry and lays in the dark.

 

_Lily, glasses, car crash._

 

     Harriet says it every night, her own morbid prayer, and with it praying that one day she’ll no longer be with the Dursleys.

 

     And when Harriet is six- _I’ll be seven soon-_ two men walk up to her as she’s putting the trash in the bin, it seems that her prayer has been answered.

 

     “Is your name Harriet Potter?”

 

     Harriet frowns, sweat trickling from her brow. She squints at the man who said her name, tall with short brown hair. A long, leather trench coat drapes him, and Harriet wonders if he’s hot under all of it. The man behind him is dressed in all black and looks unhappy.

 

     “Are you coppers? No one ever asks about me.” They ignore her question.

 

     “Is your aunt home?”

 

     “She’s inside, I’ll go get her.”

 

     But before Harriet can go get Aunt Petunia, said woman comes running out of the house, seething with Harriet could only call fear and anger.

 

     “What do you want? Your _kind_ isn’t wanted here.”

 

     “ _Aunt Petunia!_ ” Harry gave a strangled gasp at her Aunt’s manners, or lack of. She’d never heard her Aunt speak in such a way to strangers before.

 

     The second man steps forwards, long black hair framing his face. “Come now Petunia. Don’t be foolish. You know why we’re here.” _Wait she does?_ Harriet frowned.

 

     “Snape? No- you can’t have her. Lily told me about you and your lot, you death eater!”

 

     “She’s a magical child. Laws have been passed in our world, not that you care, but we cannot allow her to stay here any longer.”

 

     Before Aunt Petunia could say something in response, Harriet’s mouth blurts out words before her brain could catch up and stop her.

 

     “Magic’s not real.”

 

     The black-haired man called Snape snarled with anger at what Harriet said, causing her to flinch back.

 

     “Have you told the girl absolutely _nothing?!”_

 

     Aunt Petunia gave another shrill response. “I’ll have none of your freakishness in my house and I damn well won’t be teaching her about it-”

 

     Before her aunt could say anything else, the brown-haired man pulled out a stick, and with a quick red flash, Aunt Petunia was laying on the ground, eyes staring at nothing. For a brief moment, Harriet thought she was dead, but sighed when her chest raised with each breath.

 

     “ _Barty_.”

 

     “Sorry Snape. Our lord had strict orders, and this is taking too long.” With a snap of his wrist, Aunt Petunia floated up, and hovered back into the house. Harriet stared, jaw slack with amazement. She then sputtered up at the black-haired man Aunt Petunia called Snape.

 

     “What _are_ you? How’d he do that with that stick? Is Aunt Petunia gonna wake up?”

 

     Snape held his hand up, silencing her questions, and took a deep breath.

 

     “You are a witch.”

 

     “That’s mean.”

 

     Snape gave a tight smile at the words, thinking of another girl, from another time, and continued his explanation.

 

     “We are wizards. A great war ended almost four years ago, and we’ve been looking for you. It’s time for you to come home and take your place in the Wizarding world.”

 

     Harriet paused, and took in all the information. A question full of hope bubbled out of her.

 

     “Are my parents really alive? Did they fake their death and go into hiding?”

 

     “No child. You parents are dead. They died protecting you.”

 

     “Oh.” Just like that, the small bit of hope that kept her going fizzled out and died. Harriet sniffed, knowing it was stupid and things like that only ever happened on the telly. It was worth a shot.

 

     Barty’s cough brought her out of her thoughts, and Snape continued speaking.

 

     “Quickly now. Gather your things, and everything shall be explained to you soon.”

 

     She nodded, black hair covering her face, and made her way back inside. The two quickly followed. Aunt Petunia was laying on the flowery couch in the living room, telly a static noise in the background. It almost looked like she was asleep on the couch, until one walked up and noticed the blank eyes staring at the wall. Turning, Harriet quickly opened the door to her cupboard. She didn’t notice the stunned and distraught look on the men’s faces, nor Barty’s furious whispering that _our lord will slaughter these wretched muggles, such insolence to treat a magical child like this-_

 

     Satisfied that her rucksack was filled with her worldly belongings that were worth bringing, Harriet snapped it closed and turned back to the men watching her.

 

     “Ready.”

 

     “ _That’s it? Dear Merlin-”_

 

     “Excellent.” Snape held his hand out, giving Barty a sharp look. Harriet didn’t hesitate in taking his hand.

 

     She turned back to where her Aunt lay unmoving.

 

     “Bye Aunt Petunia.” Silence was the only response.

 

     Harriet turned back and nodded.

 

     The three of them apparated away from number 4 Privet Drive with a quiet pop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much! I mean seriously! Over 900 hits! I'd love you guys for feedback or ideas. This chapter was rather awkward for me as I wasn't totally sure how to get Harriet into the wizarding world and advance the plot. I'm writing this chapter by chapter with vague checkpoints that I want to hit while writing. Up next; Harriet makes new friends. And possibly meets an old one? Hmmm :)


	3. Let it Begin

     So far during his reign as Minister of Magic, there had been few occasions when the rooms of the courts had ever been this full of chaos. Crowded with the public, the press, the lords and ladies of the houses, ministry members. The overflow stood in the surrounding halls, most not even allowed past the tight security. There could be absolutely no mistakes. Not if they wanted to bring down the wrath of their lord.

 

Black marble floors and walls glistened, gold trim accenting the elaborate carvings. Behind him, important scenes throughout magical history were etched deeply into the stone. Never letting the people forget. Sitting upon the dais, above the people, he silently noted this was the pinnacle of power.

 

The elegant chain symbolizing his status as Lord and Minister of Magic, stood starkly against his fine black robes. Runes were tastefully placed, Narcissa’s fine needlework never failing to perfect a stitch. She herself has made many of his robes, even a few of the battle ones. Rings displayed his many lordships on his fingers; Slytherin, Gaunt, lesser housed he conquered. All his, brought back from _nothing_.

 

Voldemort has pleased. Not completely satisfied but pleased nonetheless. He was head of an ever-expanding empire, bringing forth a golden age of magic for Europe not seen since the days of Morgana and Merlin. Still, satisfaction curled greedily though him, considering todays trial was against his most prominent enemy.

 

Albus Dumbledore.

 

Once headmaster of Hogwarts, no longer, for he would never allow it. Now, head of the disbanded Order of the Phoenix. All had abandoned the great Albus Dumbledore, the once great wizard of western Europe, after the crumbling web of lies of his had been exposed for what it was. For what he called the greater good.

 

Generations of magical blood spilt, great houses no longer. What good is it when so many unnecessary sacrifices are made, so many sacred magical lives taken. Oh yes, he had great please exposing Dumbledore for the vicious man he is.

 

But now, this final trial of his, everything about Harriet Potter was coming to the light.

 

The Girl Who Lived.

 

There is truth to it, no doubt, but no one besides those who trusted or silently supported Dumbledore believed any of it.

 

Today, he was going to confirm it, and announce to Magical Britain the importance of the girl to him. His future apprentice, ward, and bond mate. When their magic appeared to each other, it meant something. Years spent researching and finally answers have been found. _And it all had to deal with that damn Pervell line._

 

Nonetheless, the girl was to be his. And soon the world was to know.


End file.
